Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Lost Goddess
by PercyJacksonLover1
Summary: I stink at summaries. Uh, a goddess is lost and the new demigod and friends try to save her.
1. Chapter 1

Jessica Hayes, Percy Jackson, and the Olympians:

The Lost Goddess

By Jessica Hayes

Chapter 1- My One True Love

My life ended when I reached fifth grade. That's when I found my one true love. Percy Jackson. I was OBSESSED. He was ALL I thought about. Yeah, he's a fictional character, but they are the best books EVER. (Can you tell that I like to capitalize things?) He was everything. Every other sentence I said was about Percy Jackson. Blah, blah, Percy Jackson. Blah, blah, Percy Jackson. I could just imagine running my hand through his unruly black hair while looking into his deep green eyes. Little did I know, I would not be doing that in my lifetime.

I'm Jessie Hayes, A.K.A. the bookworm. My one joy in life is reading. I've read every book known to man. But the books that I can't live without are the Percy Jackson series. Ever since I've read them, all I do is daydream about what would happen if they came to life, if I was one of the characters. I would be a daughter of Athena, even though I was NOT wise at all.

My mom and I live alone in a small but very roomy apartment in Manhattan. I've always believed that if I search Upper East Side so many times, that I'd find Percy's apartment. I've never met my dad, though I feel like I know him, or at least have seen him before. My Mom says that my father was a very brave man who was lost at sea while in war. She never likes to talk about him that much though. It's always been a touchy subject and whenever I mention it, she has the same old speech prepared, "He was the bravest man that I have ever known. You have his eyes you know."

I have thick brown hair that takes all day to dry and mesmerizing, deep green eyes; though they change shades of green depending on what mood I'm in, light when I'm happy, dark when I am sad, and a mix when I'm nervous.

"Jessie!" yelled my very pudgy and short math teacher, Mr. Nichols. "Would you like to share with the class what you were thinking about?"

Mr. Nichols was the worst math teacher in the history of math teachers. Whenever he caught someone daydreaming in his class, he'd make them come up and embarrass themselves by sharing what they were thinking of. Unfortunately, I was called up a lot.

He wears big plaid suspenders with a belt (which I never understood), a long, plaid, silky jacket (which makes the suspenders look even worse), and every once in a while a large top hat that makes him look like Mr. Popper from "Mr. Popper's Penguins." (And that's an insult to Mr. Popper.)

"Is this one of your fantasies of what would happen if your books came to life again?" he asked in his big booming voice.

"Yeah, it is," I replied in a squeaky voice. "This time it's about the Percy Jackson Series."

The entire class perked up from there gloomy moods. They seemed to think my stories are much more interesting then positive and negative integers.

"Well," I started. "It started out as a normal day, then all of the sudden, our teacher turned into one of the furies! With sharp talons and wings that stretched from opposite walls."

Once I finished those two sentences, I looked at the class. Instead of being amused, they all looked like they were going to pee their pants.

"Wha-" I started. Then I looked over at Mr. Nichols to see what was wrong. But where he was standing a minute ago, exactly as I had imagined, was a hunching, scowling fury.


	2. My stories become insanely lifelike

Chapter 2- My Stories Become Insanely Lifelike

"Come, child." Said the old woman in a voice that made my spine shiver. "I must take you with me, for you are a dangerous one." As she darted towards me, I came to my senses and, as speedy as quicksilver, I picked up a chair and hurled it at her at her gruesome face at full speed so the next thing she knew, she had a face full of clunky metal. That gave me a few seconds to grab my backpack and escape out the window.

Believe me, jumping out of a two-story window onto a solid pavement parking lot is not high on my to-do list, but I'd rather die like this than get shredded to pieces by those razor-sharp talons.

Falling down, I thought of all of the things that I wanted to see and do. I would never be able to. I won't be able to live my life as a half-blood or at least find out who my dad is. Just as I was about to hit the ground, I landed (very uncomfortably) on the back of a pure black horse.

As I cleared out of my daze, I noticed that there was a boy about sixteen years old with black hair and shining, deep green eyes, exactly like mine. I knew who it was the moment I saw him.

"Y- y- you're Percy Jackson!" I stammered.

"How do you know?" he replied, his face glimmering with curiosity and sweat.

"I, I read your books." I said in a hushed voice.

"Well, I find it kind of weird that their are books about me," he said.

"Sorry," I replied, my voice a little stronger. "But, are they all real?"

"Well, of course! I wrote them myself." He replied.

"Really! So, is this Pegasus, is this Pegasus really Blackjack?"

"You got it, Princess!" replied a voice that was vey unfamiliar.

"Who was that?" I asked, suspiciously.

"You heard Blackjack talk?" He said, looking even more surprised than I was.

"Yeah, I mean, I think."

"How is that possible? It's only been a year." He said to himself. "How old are you, um?"

"My name is Jessie, and I'm eleven."

"And you can hear blackjack talk?"

"Yep!"

"Then I can't believe I'm saying this," he said, obviously very surprised, "but I think I have a new cabin mate."


End file.
